A Well-deserved Murder (Trevor Joseph Detective series) (10 page)

‘Should you want to check any of my diary entries again, Inspector, you know where to find me. I can’t get out of this chair and run away like my neighbours.’

‘Do you think one of your neighbours might be tempted to run away from the street because of Kacy Howells’ murder?’ Trevor asked.

‘If the person who hacked Kacy Howells to death came in and out of the Howells’ garden the front way I would have seen them. Of course, it could have been a stranger who walked through the woods and climbed over the back fence. In which case they would only be seen if Mick was out in our back garden or the farmer was looking down in this direction from his land.’

‘What do you mean; Kacy Howells was hacked to death?’

‘The paper said she’d been killed with an axe. Wasn’t she?’

Not for the first time Trevor regretted his superiors’ openness with the press when it came to discussing an ongoing investigation. ‘Do you have any particular neighbour in mind as the murderer, Mrs Walsh?’

‘If I were you I’d start looking at the delivery men who visited Kacy Howells on a regular basis. Come to think of it, you should also take a good look at that path I mentioned. The one that runs down from the farm, through the woods at the back of our gardens. Strangers wouldn’t know about it, but the locals do. If someone approached the Howells’ garden from that direction, killed Mrs Howells and returned along the path and up the lane, they might not have been seen.’

‘I thought the footpath cut across the farmer’s land. Isn’t his land fenced off?’

‘It is, but most people in this street can step over their fences and access it from the backs of their gardens. From what I recall when I still had the use of my legs the farmer’s fence was broken in more than one place. It used to be a popular place for children to play years ago.’

Trevor heard Chris talking to Sarah. ‘I must go, Mrs Walsh. Thank you, you have been most helpful.’

‘It’s good to know that, given the way I am, I can still help someone. Goodbye, Inspector.’

‘Anything?’ Trevor asked Sarah and Chris when he joined them.

‘Forensic want you on site, sir. At the back of Alan Piper’s house.’

They walked along the pavement, through Alan Piper’s front gate, around the house and up the steps on to the garden. The officer in charge was waiting for Trevor.

‘Hi, Joseph. Long time no see.’

‘What have you got?’ Trevor asked.

‘We used equipment that detects ground disturbance. It picked up on an area that was covered by bark. We dug down and found a coat.’

Trevor stood back and watched a technician in boots, overalls, cap and gloves tease a heavily stained coat from the dirt.

‘Blood?’ he asked.

The technician looked up. ‘We’ll have to do tests, sir, but it smells like it and looks as though it’s been washed in it, sir.’

‘The forensic team have photographed the coat?’ Trevor checked when Sarah climbed into the back of the car Chris was driving.

‘Yes, sir, but I thought you’d want some photographs right away so I took a few as well.’ She leaned forward and handed a digital camera to Trevor in the front passenger seat. ‘You can call them up now. The ones forensic took are being e-mailed to the office. I’ll print them off as soon as we get back.’

‘I never cease to be amazed by your efficiency. Thank you.’

‘She thinks it will get her promotion before me, sir.’ Chris started the car,

‘It will,’ Trevor said semi-seriously.

‘The team is continuing to conduct a thorough search of the house and the garden. I told them to contact the incident room if they find anything else of interest. They’ve promised to start testing the coat as soon as they get it to the lab, sir, but it will take time.’ Sarah fastened her safety belt.

‘The one thing I’ve learned with forensics is they can’t be hurried.’ Trevor pulled down the sun visor as Chris drove off. A mirror had been inset into the back. He used it to take a last look at the Walshes’ house. He detected movement behind the vertical blinds in the living room. As Mick Walsh was putting the lawnmower away in the garage, he assumed Mrs Walsh was monitoring them. Possibly through her binoculars. He glanced from the house to the detached garage.

‘There are a lot of boxes in the Walshes’ garage. Have you two checked them out?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Chris slowed at the end of the street. ‘Mick showed me the paperwork. The Walshes store chemicals for a cleaning firm. They take delivery and keep them until they are picked up by the operatives. As neither he nor his mother has been able to work since the car accident that killed his father and injured him and his mother, it gives them a small income.’

‘I trust they declare it to the taxman and social services.’

‘That, I didn’t ask, sir.’ Chris turned the corner.

Five minutes later they were on the main road heading into town. Another ten minutes and they’d be in the office. Trevor would not only have to face Alan Piper but Peter as well, and he wasn’t looking forward to resuming the interview.

He suspected that there was only one way it could end.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘Do you recognise this coat?’ Trevor set the photographs Sarah had printed out in front of Alan Piper. They had been taken after the garment had been spread out on a plastic sheet, arms extended. It probably had begun life as a lightweight, chain store shower-proof jacket. It might have been beige, or possibly cream. The original colour, smudged with dirt and mud could still be seen in rare spots around the edges, but the front panels either side of the central zip fastener and the sleeves were a deep blotched, blackened burgundy. Lumps of matter were stuck to the cloth. Trevor hoped they were dirt not Kacy Howells’ brain tissue.

Alan studied the pictures. ‘It could be mine.’

‘You don’t know?’ Silence followed Trevor’s question. He continued to sit listening to Alan’s steady breathing, very aware of Sarah, still and concentrating beside him.

He thought of Peter. He knew the sergeant would be listening outside the interview room, noting every word he and Alan said.

‘I had a beige zip-up casual jacket similar to that. I bought it in Marks and Spencer’s a couple of years ago. I haven’t seen it for a while and although I’ve looked for it, I haven’t looked very hard.’

‘Why?’ Trevor questioned.

‘Because I have plenty of others I can wear.’

‘You lose a coat and just forget about it?’

‘When I couldn’t find it in the house, I assumed I’d left it in the back of my car. Or the boot, or in work, the pub or Judy’s. I drive most places. If I need a coat I reach for the nearest one. I must have half a dozen or more.’

Trevor looked at Sarah. He didn’t need to say a word. She was already making a note directing the search team to check the number of coats and jackets in Alan’s house.

‘Would you like to know where we found it?’ Trevor asked.

‘I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.’

‘Buried in your garden.’

‘Buried …’ Alan paled.

‘You didn’t notice the ground had been disturbed?’ Given that the forensic team had told him the area had been covered by bark, Trevor felt he was being unfair.

‘I’ve hardly gone into my garden since Joy died.’

‘You were there two nights ago, on the evening of the day Kacy Howells was murdered,’ Trevor reminded.

‘I went there to walk off my annoyance at being dragged out on a wild goose chase and to look at the stars. Not to dig holes.’

‘So you’ve no idea how a coat that “could be” yours became soaked in what looks like blood – we’ll know more when the results of the forensic tests come in – or came to be buried in your garden?’

‘None.’

‘Or how chewing gum and tissue impregnated with your DNA came to be on the deck in the Howells’ garden?’

Alan kept his voice even. ‘Other than to say that it looks like someone is planting evidence to make it look as though I killed Kacy Howells, no.’

Trevor opened a file and extracted the pages of Mrs Walsh’s diary that Sarah had typed and the notes that had been made of his earlier interviews with Alan. ‘I’d like to go back over your movements on the day Kacy Howells was murdered.’

‘I’ve told you all I know.’

‘I need to verify the time-line of your initial statement. You don’t want to alter your statement in any way?’

‘No.’

‘You’re certain.’

‘Absolutely.’

‘You had lunch with Peter Collins in the Black Boar and left him at around two o’clock.’

‘Yes.’

‘You returned to your office and stayed there until four thirty?’

‘Somewhere around then, I can’t be exact about times. I don’t live my life by clocks and watches.’

‘After which you drove up to Connor’s Lake, taking the scenic route to meet someone who telephoned you at the office, someone who said that he or she – you couldn’t be specific about sex – would be there between six and nine o’clock in the evening?’

‘Yes.’

‘And they didn’t show.’

Alan allowed his impatience to surface for the first time. ‘I’ve told you all this.’

‘Connor’s Lake is a fifty-five mile drive from your house, “door to door” in your own words.’

‘Yes.’

‘Less from town. Shall we say about forty-five miles if you travel on the mountain road, which you did.’

‘Probably.’

‘Even allowing for country roads and the vagaries of rush-hour traffic leaving town between four and five or clock I’d say that’s approximately an hour and a half’s drive.’

‘About that.’

‘Then why did you leave your office at half past four to reach there by seven o’clock?’

‘I’d finished for the day. Possibly I thought that it could be nearer an hour and a half or two if I had a problem with the traffic getting out of town. And, some of those lanes around the lake are very narrow.’

‘So you were thinking about the traffic?’

‘I also had a few personal problems. I probably wasn’t thinking clearly.’

‘What kind of personal problems?’

‘Problems with a friendship that have absolutely nothing to do with Kacy Howells being murdered.’

Trevor allowed the matter to drop – for the moment – but filed the information in his mind. ‘What time did you get to the lake?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘You must have checked the time when you arrived as the caller had been so specific in asking you to be there between seven and nine o’clock.’

‘I probably did check,’ Alan conceded, ‘but I can’t remember doing so. I suppose I simply noticed that I was within the time the caller had asked me to be there.’

‘You drove directly to the lake from your office?’

‘Yes – no.’ He hesitated. ‘I dropped by my house.’

‘Why didn’t you mention this earlier?’

‘Because it slipped my mind. I didn’t think it was important. I wanted to pick up a sleeping bag. I wasn’t sure when, if at all, the contact was going to show or if they did show, if they’d want to move on. I like to be prepared for all eventualities. I wasn’t home for long.’

‘You pulled up outside your house at fourteen minutes past four in the afternoon,’ Trevor informed Alan.

Nonplussed, Alan stared at Trevor. ‘I should have known, Mrs Walsh’s famous – or should I say – infamous – diary.’

‘You know she keeps a diary?’

‘Of all the movement in the street? Yes. Everyone who lives there knows about it. She watches us all. When kids lived in the street she used to open her window and yell at them every time they did something she disapproved of.’

‘You didn’t think that was public-spirited of her?’

‘Although Joy and I never had any kids of our own, like most people living in view of Mrs Walsh, I had another name for it.’

‘Which was?’

‘The polite term would be voyeurism.’

‘But you agree that you drove up the street and parked your car at fourteen minutes past four on the day Kacy Howells was murdered.’

‘I’ll take Mrs Walsh’s word for it. If she was clocking me in and out I don’t doubt the timing is spot-on.’

‘Yet, you said earlier that you left your office at half past four that day.’

‘I also said that I don’t live my life by clocks and watches.’ Alan was making an effort to keep his voice steady but Trevor could detect strain.

‘When you reached your house, you parked your car outside, left it and walked across the road to Judy Mason’s house ‘

‘Judy was out.’

‘But you let yourself in.’

‘She gave me a key after Joy died. I use it to check her house and pick up the mail from behind the door when she’s away.’

‘Does she have a key to your house?’

‘No, but only because I rarely go away.’

‘But Judy wasn’t away that afternoon.’

‘She was out, not away.’

‘How long were you in Judy Mason’s house?’

‘I don’t know.’ Alan’s irritation finally surfaced. ‘A couple of minutes, maybe more.’

‘Try five.’

‘All right, I was in Judy’s house for five minutes.’

‘You knew she’d be out?’

‘I know she usually goes to the hairdresser at that time, yes. You’ve spoken to her about it?’

‘No.’

Alan shook his head. ‘Mrs Walsh told you it was Judy’s regular day at the hairdresser’s.’

‘If you knew she was out, why did you go in?’ Trevor asked.

‘We’d had a stupid argument the night before, I wanted to make amends.’

‘An argument over what?’

‘My relationship with Judy Mason has nothing whatsoever to do with Kacy Howells’ murder or my dispute with the Howells …’

‘If I were you, before saying any more, I’d think very carefully about the evidence we’ve accumulated and the errors in the statements you made yesterday. Would you like to telephone your solicitor?’ Trevor asked.

‘No. I’ve better things to do with my money than pay solicitor’s bills.’ Alan clasped his hands together and leaned forward, across the table. ‘Judy and I are friends. She’s been divorced for four years and wants our relationship to be something more than it is. I am recovering from the death of my wife. I need more time to grieve, and Judy and I argued about it. On my way back from the court yesterday I stopped in town and bought her a small box of luxury chocolates. She likes fruit-flavoured ones. I left them in her living room as a peace offering.’

Sarah was making notes again and Trevor didn’t doubt she’d follow Alan’s story up with Judy Mason at the first opportunity.

‘It took you five minutes to leave a box of chocolates in Judy Mason’s living room?’

‘I bought her a card as well. I hadn’t written in it. It took me a few minutes to decide what I wanted to say to her.’

‘So, after you wrote the card and left the chocolates …’

‘As we’re being pedantic, on her living room table next to the TV remote so she couldn’t miss them when she went in.’

‘On her table next to the TV remote,’ Trevor repeated. ‘You left Judy Mason’s house, locked the door and went to your own house. How long were you there?’

‘I would have said ten minutes but given that you’ve just told me I spent seven minutes in Judy’s, it was probably nearer twenty.’

‘What did you do in your house?’

‘What I always do when I walk through the door. Check my answer phone messages and …’

‘Were there any?’

‘Pardon?’ Alan looked blankly at Trevor.

‘Answer phone messages? It was only the day before yesterday.’

‘It feels like it all happened months ago,’ Alan said.

‘Were there any messages?’ Trevor repeated.

‘Yes – but nothing urgent. I wrote them on the pad next to the phone. There was one from an old friend cancelling a squash session.’

‘You play squash?’

‘Obviously, as he was cancelling the session. I think there were others but you’ll have to check the pad in the living room.’

‘What else did you do? Trevor pressed him.

‘Went upstairs and took a sleeping bag out of the airing cupboard as I’ve already said. I also switched on my computer and opened my mail box.’

Sarah continued making notes. A computer was the best witness in any case simply because all activity was timed and recorded.

‘You had e-mails?’

‘Mostly advertising spam but there were a couple from friends who are working abroad.’

‘How long were you on your computer?’

‘I’m not sure. After checking my e-mails I glanced at the breaking news headlines, looking for more information on the missing beauty queen, there wasn’t anything that I hadn’t already read, so I took the sleeping bag, locked the house, got in my car and drove off.’

‘And you believe that you were in your house for around twenty minutes?’

‘I can’t be sure. I just told you I don’t plan my day by the clock.’

‘According to Mrs Walsh you left your house at five twenty which means you were home for forty-one minutes.’

‘Doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun?’

Trevor felt that given the circumstances it was an inappropriate remark, even for a relative of Peter Collins.

‘While you were in your house, did you go outside into your back garden?’

‘No.’

‘Given your uncertainty about your answer phone and e-mail messages you seem very sure.’

‘I am, and not just because Mrs Walsh can’t see into my back garden I didn’t open the back door of my house.’

‘Did you hear Kacy Howells sawing or chopping wood when you arrived in the street?’

‘She does it so often, if she was, it didn’t register.’

‘But if you’d heard the sound, you would have known it was her.’

‘No one else spends all their time chopping trees at the back of the gardens at the end of the street.’

‘Do you monitor the Howells’ activities?’

‘I began to after they started stealing my property but I told you this yesterday. I also volunteered to give you a copy of the diary I kept on their activities when you interviewed me earlier.’

‘It’s on your computer?’

‘In my document files titled – Howells, diary of events.’

‘Do you have any objection to us examining your computer, Mr Piper?’ Trevor glanced at Sarah.

‘None whatsoever.’

Trevor nodded to Sarah. ‘We’ll take a break at this point.’

‘Yes, sir.’ She left the room.

Trevor sat back in his chair and switched off the recorder. ‘Would you like another coffee?’ he asked Alan.

‘No thanks, I’m coffee’d out.’

‘Soft drink and a sandwich?’

‘How much longer do you intend to keep me here?’

‘That rather depends on you, Mr Piper, but,’ Trevor flicked through the papers in his file, ‘I have about another hour’s worth of questions here.’

‘I’ll take the sandwich.’

‘I’ll have it sent in.’

As Trevor had expected Peter was waiting outside the door. He pounced as soon as Trevor closed the door on the interview room.

‘You can’t read anything into Alan forgetting that he called into his house before driving up to Connor’s Lake. He wasn’t expecting to be questioned about it …’ He faltered in the face of Trevor’s stern look.

‘That is exactly why Sarah is sitting alongside me across the table from Alan and not you.’

Sarah walked past them. ‘Coffee’s on your desk, sir.’

‘Thank you, see that a sandwich and soft drink are sent into the interview room for Mr Piper and ask someone to keep him company until we resume the questioning in twenty minutes. Oh, and, Sarah?’